Go Google It
by Lithium Suicide
Summary: This was the first and last time Luka would try internet dating.
1. Love Search Engine

**Go Google It**

**

* * *

**_This was the first and last time Luka would try internet dating._

_

* * *

  
_

Luka didn't even know what the hell she was thinking when she found herself signing on to one of those dating chat websites. Curiosity? Most likely, she sure didn't want to go out with some random guy she met through a computer.

Filling out the fields, throwing in a fake name and phone number, Luka successfully infiltrated the site. The homepage flashed up on the screen, abusing her eyes with colourful ads and floating hearts adorning each and every corner.

Luka was tempted to close the internet browser then and there.

Squinting against the eye-raping images, she clicked on the clearly marked 'Instant Chat' button. Let's give this thing a shot.

_You have signed into InstantChatRoom34 as MaguroLover_

_MaguroLover(9.41pm): Hello?_

_MaguroLover(9.43pm): …_

Was there anyone even here? How lame.

If this was all there was going to be, she was leaving right now- No, wait. Here we go.

_Dancing_Samurai sighed into InstantChatRoom34_

_MaguroLover(9.43pm): …Hi._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.44pm): Hello there lovely~_

Lovely? This "Dancing Samurai" person didn't even know what she looked like. And Luka was definitely not uploading a photo of herself. And what was with the peculiar squiggly line after the sentence? Was it a tentacle or something? Weird.

_Dancing_Samurai(9.44pm): So, MaguroLover, eh? Tuna lover?_

_MaguroLover(9.44pm): Yeah, I like tuna._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.45pm): Interesting preference you have, but anyone with more refined tastebuds would prefer eggplants. It's a very distinguished flavour._

…What. This guy was seriously some whacko. Who would have a refined taste for eggplants, of all things?

Hovering the pointer over the close button on the window, she sat poised to click it, before stopping, and moving the mouse away. It had only been two minutes. You never know, it might get better. Hopefully.

Oh, hey look. This guy had a proper profile page up. Ever inquisitive, Luka opened his userpage in a new window. She frowned at the sight. He had eggplants for a background. Ew. The page loaded a bit more, revealing an apparent real photo of him.

In Luka's opinion… he looked kind of gay. No, scratch that. He looked completely gay.

Purple hair. He had long, purple hair. It was probably nearly as long as her own peachy tresses.

Suddenly remembering she was still in that chat room with him, she swapped back to the appropriate window and typed a quick reply.

_MaguroLover(9.47pm): I still like tuna._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.47pm): Ah, feisty~ Just how I like my women!_

There's that tentacle-line-thing again.

_MaguroLover(9.48pm): …Right._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.48pm): Want to take this chat elsewhere? What's your email?_

No, she did not want to take this chat elsewhere. It was bad enough here. Not particularly wanting to reply to the question, she gave the most evasive answer she could think of.

_MaguroLover(9.48pm): Go google it._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.48pm): Witty as well! You sure are a catch! Are you really single?_

_MaguroLover(9.48pm): Go google it._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.49pm): Being repetitive is no fun~_

_Dancing_Samurai(9.49pm): So, what's your bra size~?_

What. A. Stinking. Pervert. What kind of woman would actually reply truthfully to that anyway? Huffing, she typed out three words.

_MaguroLover(9.49pm): Go google it._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.49pm): Hey, don't be like that now~ How about the colour of your panties?_

_MaguroLover(9.50pm): Go happily google it._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.50pm): You don't mean that. C'mon lovely, speak the truth~_

I'm not lovely, idiot.

_MaguroLover(9.50pm): Idiot._

_You have signed out of the chat_

Well, that was the end of that.

Luka didn't want to try internet matchmaking again.


	2. IRL

**Chapter Two:** IRL _(In Real Life)_

_

* * *

  
_

Days passed.

And so Luka sat, tucked up on the couch, with a crossword puzzle resting on her knees and a blue pen tapping gently against the page. With every dull thud the pen made on the paper, Luka felt her frustration rising; boiling over the top until a sudden – also violent and unnecessary – arm movement sent the pen shooting across the room, clattering into the opposite wall, breaking in half, and finally laying to rest shattered on the cemented floor.

The crossword puzzle book followed shortly after.

Her fury still unvented, Luka stomped around the house as loudly as she could. Which was not very loud, being barefoot and on solid tiles. A pancake lying dead on a plate could make more noise in Luka's opinion, and it only added to the unwanted anger.

The cherry-haired and busty woman let out a low scream of frustration.

These days passed had been nothing short of the most boring times of Luka's life. For whatever reason, naught she ever did seemed to entertain her in the slightest, and so unfulfilled and impatient, she had resorted to doing even the most mundane activities in a futile quest for enlightenment.

From watching obscure sci-fi shows, to attempting cooking that multi-layer cake in the ancient recipe book she had had literally for ever, to even doing the _dusting._ Actual. Dusting.

Although being unable to find the source of current grumpiness was the singular thing that ticked Luka off the most. It's impossible to fix a problem when you don't even know what caused it, or even what the problem itself is.

Sighing ever so dramatically – with a slightly bitter edge – Luka rounded her crystalline eyes towards the study room. It was the one place she dared not venture, although these were desperate times. Even when she was cleaning, the study was far beyond any help, with scattered piles of god-knows-what combined with what-the-hell-is-that and also some it-has-suspicious-green-mould-on-it-I-think-it's-radioactive.

It was the last resort in Luka's possibly suicidal plan of becoming un-bored.

Creeping hesitantly inside the torn and mistreated room, she nudged away interfering stacks of paper with her foot, and cleared the dusty air with a wave of her hand. Now standing tall in the centre of the room, Luka surveyed the damage.

..Not as bad as first thought.

Apart from being disorganized, rampant, dirty, mould-covered, smelling like rotten cheese, and with an absolutely ugly colour scheme in the walls and carpet (what on earth was Luka thinking back when she chose this design?), it really was not bad. Not bad at all.

Swerving between a couple of upturned chairs, Luka fumbled her way towards the old mahogany desk.

There wasn't really too much to see on it, but nonetheless, Luka scanned the surface thoroughly. It wasn't like she had anything better to do. Though, there was on thing that caught her eye.

Brushing aside some reams of paper, Luka's eyes widened as her sight homed in on the slightly rugged, old laptop. Worn and cracked all over the place, with unsightly peeling paint, the PC seemed to be reaching the end of its days. Luka remembered back fondly when she would use it almost constantly, for every little thing that needed doing. But, as soon as the bought her new desktop computer, the poor machine got chucked forgotten into here.

Curious, Luka cleared a wider area upon the desk, and pulled the laptop forward. Amazingly the power cord was still connected to the back, and lead away into a socket in the wall. The only thing left to do was switch it on. So she did.

Lights flickered, hard drives hummed, and random beeping noises emitted from the previously dead computer. In a surprisingly short amount of time, considering how long it had been inactive for, the familiar desktop of Windows was glowing on the screen.

Luka wondered…

Clicking on the blue 'e' symbol of internet explorer, she waited for the browser to load. If Luka remembered correctly, the laptop had inbuilt wireless, and theoretically since she had not changed her internet since abandoning it, it should still be working fine?

Smiling smugly when she was proven right, the plain homepage of Google loaded effortlessly on the monitor.

Fingers poised upon the keyboard, Luka mulled over what she could search for. She needed entertainment. Not feeling like browsing YouTube or looking at stupid pictures, with a blink of her blue eyes she knew she needed the human interaction. So, as much as hated those chat sits and the scum that lurked in them, Luka typed.

_Search: chat site_

Moving the mouse down slowly – she had forgotten how annoying laptop touchpads are to use – Luka lazily hit the 'I'm feeling lucky' button. She just wanted to go to a chat site, and not rummage through the thousands, even _millions_ of results Google was sure to pick up.

As the page loaded (it took quite a while, there were many unnecessary graphics), Luka's eyes widened in horror.

It was _that_ site.

Swirling hearts, romantic slogans and an overload of pink once again raped her vision. Her poor eye-virginity was utterly crushed by now.

But, really. The chances. Of every single chat site in the entire internet, it was this one Google landed on. Talk about 'feeling lucky'. More like feeling cursed.

Ah well. At least she wouldn't have to sign up again. Aiming the pointer towards the login box, Luka typed in the username and password she only remembered through a stroke of fortune, and waited for the lagging site to redirect her towards the member's page.

Exactly two minutes later, she was in.

Clicking on the same 'instant chat' button she had in her last encounter with this site, Luka hoped the freaky, gay guy would not be there. And to her immense sanity and relief, he was not. In fact, there were other people actually online, and having a normal conversation. Maybe things were starting to look up.

* * *

It took nearly an hour for Luka to realise that a 'normal' conversation was not what she wanted. The ones in the chat, if anything, all seemed to be lonely losers, completely uneducated in how talk to someone of the opposite sex.

Of the ones Luka did not scare off with her blunt statements, the others were boring. Forced conversations not going anywhere, and an excess of awkward silences filled the virtual chatroom.

Finally, without as much as a goodbye, Luka signed out of the chat, and slammed down the lid of the laptop.

Okay, this was it. She needed to get out of the house.

Stalking into her bedroom, lazily grabbing a coat and handbag, and only pausing at the doorstep to slip on a pair of sandals, Luka strode out of the house.

And then had to rush back to go and lock the front door.

* * *

Window-browsing at a small cluster of shops, Luka had yet to spy a store of interest. Many odd-shops presented obscure knick-knacks for sale, yet she was not the person to buy useless items. She had learned that lesson from the study room.

Feeling disappointed in the lack of anything worthy, and also feeling the ache of standing on her feet for too long, a much deserved break was in order. Spotting a fairly decent and homely looking café, she meandered over easily. Yet when she got close enough to read the sign titling the name of the establishment, she repressed a snort.

'Le Café'

Luka applauded them on their originality.

Well, one shouldn't judge a book by its cover. So pushing all thoughts against the name away, Luka entered, sending the little bell attached to the door jingling.

The café was rather well-kept, with no peeling paint or scruffy chairs. Actually, it was rather inviting, with a warming, creamy colour scheme and the orangey afternoon sun filtering through the clean glass windows.

Making a beeline towards a small, sheltered and vacant table in the back corner, Luka sighed and collapsed down into the comfortable chair. Slipping off her sandals and propping up one of her feet on her knee, Luka massaged the sore sole. She knew that this small amount of walking shouldn't bother her so much, but she wasn't exactly the type of person to workout too much. If there was a way to avoid exercise, then with full effort Luka would try and take that easier path no second thoughts.

Swapping legs to rub at her other foot, Luka stared unseeingly at the blank wall across from her, zoning out for a minute or two. Closing her eyes, she probably would have drifted off into a light sleep hadn't a polite voice woken her.

"Excuse me, Miss. Miss?"

Shaking her head and blinking the near-sleep from her eyes, Luka snapped to attention and turned to see who had required her interest.

Luka gaped.

Standing a few paces away was a waiter, small notepad in hand and a respectfully unemotional expression on face. But that was not the reason Luka was now staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"Would you like to order now, Miss?" the waiter asked, and brushed a small unruly strand of purple hair away from his face.

That's right – purple hair.

Long, flowing and lavender, it was tied up into a neat ponytail at the back, yet random pieces of fringe attempted to align themselves in the way of his vision, hence the constant flicking and fixing.

"Miss?" he repeated, aware of her gawking expression and obvious failure of comprehending what he was saying.

"I.. Uh.. I-I haven't decided yet!" Luka was nearly shrieking at him from uneasiness, and immediately she grabbed a menu lying on the table and buried her face in it, not daring to look up again until she could be sure he was gone.

"Please take your time." He told her politely with a curt nod, yet not without a slight eyebrow raise at her strange behaviour. He then moved on to busy himself with the other customers, leaving Luka alone behind her menu.

Like a child playing hide-and-seek, Luka poked her eyes over the top of the page. There was no mistaking it. Watching him move around the modest café, the unambiguous river of purple could belong to none other than the same, perverted man she had briefly chatted with online.

Yet... he wasn't acting much like Luka expected at all.

Judging from her previous virtual encounter, he should be constantly mentioning eggplants, trying to seduce at least 99% of the women in the shop, and basically being an all-round annoying idiot. But he did none of that.

Following him with her eyes, Luka watched him carefully take down orders, nodding and smiling in all the polite times. Even when serving women, Luka assumed he would have a hard time keeping his eye contact directly to their faces, but surprisingly not.

He didn't even _glance_ down at Luka's chest when he had talked to her before. And Luka's chest was pretty hard to miss.

Growing uncomfortable from being in the same room, Luka finally couldn't stand the atmosphere anymore. Standing up quickly, making sure she had her purse, jacket and shoes, Luka swiftly exited the café.

It seems she would be, again, holed up in her house, fighting the never-ending war against her own boredom.

* * *

That night, Luka went to bed early. Therefore, when she woke up, it was early. Oh how wonderful obvious logic is.

So after having an early rise, Luka was now sitting silent in the kitchen, munching on a piece of toast, and pausing every-so-often to take a sip of milk directly from the carton.

Getting three-quarters of the way through the toast before deciding it tasted like cardboard, Luka chucked the remainder in the bin, and with a final swig from the milk, shoved it back into the fridge.

The ticking of the clock and the hum of the refrigerator were the only sounds left within the room, and the low noises started grinding on her nerves. Rubbing her temples, Luka moved out, and mooched her way over towards the bathroom.

Half an hour later, feeling showered, clean and refreshed, Luka deemed herself ready to face yet another day of death-by-monotony. Throwing herself down onto the couch, she flicked on the TV.

It was only five minutes into a current affairs show when the house begun to feeling very stifling. Constantly shifting position, Luka could not get comfortable on the suede sofa. She tossed. She turned. She rolled; and subsequently fell off the couch much to her infuriation.

Getting to her feet, a feeling of claustrophobia overcame her, and for not another minute Luka could stand being inside. For the second time in two days, she had to get out of the house.

Following the same pattern she did yesterday, Luka adventured out into the world. Only this time, she remembered to lock the door on the first go.

* * *

10 minutes later, Luka found herself standing at the doorway of so eloquently named, 'Le Café'.

Almost as soon as she had left home, obvious lack of breakfast began to take its toll, and Luka had to try hard to disguise the grumblings sneaking out of her belly. Eventually she gave in to the cravings, and started looking for a store which was open at this time in the morning. She would take any one she got, Luka's stomach wasn't feeling particularly picky about what it wanted to eat. Just a good, cheap café would do. Decent food would only be a bonus.

Alas, no store seemed to open so early in the morning, and to no surprise. When Luka looked around, there was barely another soul in sight.

A sinking feeling was just beginning to penetrate, when her eyes drew themselves towards a single place.

And now here she was.

It really must be the working's of the Goddess of Fate, because Luka could not believe this was the _only_ café that opened at 7.30 in the morning.

Sighing, Luka pushed on the metallic door handle, which happened to be bitterly cold. Shivers ran up and down her spine, and Luka could not help but think this was some foreboding message being sent to her.

_Turn away! Turn away now! Or forever be damned!_

Or something like that.

The sensation instantly disappeared though as Luka stiffly walked inside, letting the door close behind her. Le Café still had that warming, homely feel, and Luka immediately felt like sinking down into a chair and drinking hot chocolate… Yeah, that would be nice.

"Excuse me, Miss."

Luka whipped around, to find the overly – and astonishingly – well-mannered purple-man looking at her.

He fiddled with the notepad he usually carried when working, before replying, "I'm sorry, but we're not open-…"

The waiter stopped talking the moment he glanced at a hanging clock on the wall. Dead on 7.30am. Shaking his head, he made a dismissive wave towards Luka, as if to say, 'Just take your seat anywhere...'

Luka watched him as he disappeared into the back room, probably to go do some secret employee stuff. Seriously, what did they do in those mysterious employee-only areas? Maybe Luka should try working in a café, just to find out.

Clearing her head of the off-topic thoughts, Luka ended up placing herself in the centre of the room. Without too many people, she was less inclined towards the edges and corners like she usually was.

Gazing out the window, she stared as the sunlight flittered through the leaves of a tree outside. It casted unusual shadows, constantly shifting and flickering as the tree bent in the wind. The little jewels of sunlight were rather entrancing, catching the eye with their unpredictable moves. The natural occurrences of nature seemed to be the best. Suddenly, a particularly violent stroke of wind hurled itself at the swaying branches, pushing them further than ever to the side. The sun, which was mostly obscured behind those branches, for a moment became fully revealed. And the blinding rays blasted Luka straight in the face.

"Argh! God damnit!" Luka swore, and turned her face away. Even after she opened her eyes looking to a much safer and darker part of the room, little spots and stars still danced across her vision.

Luka was not impressed.

As her sight was slowly becoming normal again, purple-haired-gay-waiter-man returned from his mystifying adventure in the back. Naturally, he approached Luka, notebook ready in hand, preparing the take her order.

"What would you like this morning, Miss?"

"Oh! Uh..." Momentarily Luka forgot what she was going to get. But soon enough the thought popped back into her head. "I would like to get three pancakes and a hot chocolate, thank you."

Pulling out a pen from behind his ear, he quickly jotted it down, and with a polite 'Thank you', turned on heel and departed to retrieve her order.

Left alone, Luka flipped her eyes around the room, paying special attention to avoid looking towards the windows. She was slightly bored, but not for too long; being the only customer had its perks.

Soon, he rushed back, steamy chocolate in on hand and a warm plate of pancakes in the other. He placed them and her bill on the table and with a last glance walked away.

The first thing Luka did was pick up the bill. Eh, not that bad. Looks like they even had decent pricing here. Placing that aside, the real test came up – was the food actually good.

Sniffing the hot chocolate, as much as it smelt delicious, it was still a little hot. So, Luka pushed that aside for the moment. Picking up a knife and fork, she stared at the pancakes. She gave them such a glare it was almost like she was preparing for battle with them. Luka chuckled at her own inside joke, but quickly stopped, realising she would look like a total nutcase laughing at a plate of pancakes.

Finally putting the utensils into use, and brining a small cutting of pancake to her lips, Luka cautiously took the first bite. It was… really good. Really, _really_ good!

Perfectly fluffy texture and that buttery yet distinctly pancake-like taste… it had been so _long_ since Luka last had a decent lot of pancakes for breakfast. Wasting no more time, she dug right in.

At first only the sound of knives and forks scraping on plate filled the room, but about three-quarters through the meal, Luka noticed a quiet tapping noise. Pausing, she looked for the source, and not a few tables away she found it.

Reclining back on one of the chairs was none other than internet-pervert-yet-real-life-nice-guy. He looked bored, yet no surprises; with no patrons to serve what _was_ a waiter to do?

Rocking his chair, the sound of the metal legs contacting the floor made the patter Luka had spied before. Watching him, the repetitive movement of going back and forth, back and forth, cast some kind of trance over Luka.

He looked the same today, shining lilac hair in a casual ponytail. Though, in real life, Luka thought it didn't look quite as gay as it did in that photo on his userpage. Cameras must really not like that man.

Starting to feel a bit weird for staring at him, Luka struck up a conversation. "Hey."

He turned, surveying her with bored eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you work here a lot or something? I've seen you everytime I've been here."

Not really much of a statement, Luka had only been here once before.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. It's not a very flattering job, is it?"

"I wouldn't say that." Forgetting her food in the meantime, Luka turned her chair to face him better, so she was not leaning over the back rather uncomfortably. "It seems like a pretty decent place to work, if you ask me."

"Mmhm." He didn't sound like he had all that much conviction. "In the beginning, I guess. But it becomes kinda… monotonous. Sorry if you're a regular or something and I didn't recognise you, I don't really pay attention to what people look like anymore."

Well, that's nice. Although Luka could understand where he was coming from, it must be rather dull to constantly serve people over and over and over. She admitted that even she would probably stop concentrating on people's faces too.

"I can understand that." Luka agreed, nodding. Turning back towards her table, she reached for the hot chocolate and took a small sip.

"Really?" He asked, some genuine surprise in there, "Most women would throw a fit over that, not happy that a man didn't notice them."

So the sexist in him was not lost in the real world!

"I'm not most women."

At that remark, a real grin spread over his face. "It's good to see someone with a bit of wit about them. Too many people are so uptight these days."

"I can't disagree with you there. One time, I was standing in line, and just because I took _an extra second_ to catch up with the next person, the guy behind me started yelling and hurrying me up."

"People these days."

"It was so rude and-…"

The leftover pancakes and hot chocolate grew cold by the time the conversation ended. And the only thing that stopped them from continuing was the incoming of more customers. Abruptly stopping their chat, the waiter had to return to his work.

Luka made her way home, surprisingly contented. Even when she unlocked the door with a creak, and entered the cloggy house, it was more welcoming than it had been in days.

But no way was she going to say it was because of one stupid conversation with one stupid person. Oh no. Luka's social life couldn't suck so much that a brief chat with a closet pervert – she was sure that the arrogance he had when online was in there, somewhere – would make her feel better.

No way at all. Yeah. That's what she told herself.

If there was one good thing about talking to him, and this is only if she _had_ to name something, it would be that she at least knew his name.

Gakupo. Kamui Gakupo.

Now she could refer to him as something more than 'waiter' or 'gay-man' or that idiotic screename of his, 'Dancing Samurai'. Speaking of which, he probably would be on tonight. Luka contemplated jumping on the computer later this evening, in a hope to chat to him.

Not like she _wanted_ to chat to him. She just wanted to see if he acted all perverted again. Y'know, just out of curiosity. Pure curiosity.

That's all it is.

* * *

_You have signed into InstantChatRoom61 as MaguroLover_

_Dancing_Samurai(9.01pm): What a surprise! It's you again, lovely. Haven't seen you around in a few days~_

_MaguroLover(9.01pm): Ugh. You._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.01pm): I could never forget that sharp language of yours._

_Dancing_Samurai(9.02pm): So, are you going to tell me today what your bra size is~?_

Looks like things never changed. But fine. This time, she'll accept the challenge. If he wanted to play the perverted game, she would too.

_MaguroLover(9.03pm): Fine. I only didn't want to tell you earlier because I was embarrassed. I'm… only an A-cup. _

_Dancing_Samurai(9.05pm): …oh._

In front of the computer screen, Luka smirked.

"In your job you may not pay attention to looks, but it actually means a lot to you, doesn't it, Gakupo~?"

Hah.

* * *

**A/N:** So yeeaaah. Been a while, huh? I hadn't had much inspiration for writing recently… but suddenly, BAM. I wrote this whole thing in one weekend.

Don't expect further updates any time soon, though xD;;;;;


	3. Double Lives, Double Trouble

**Chapter Three:** Double Lives, Double Trouble

* * *

According to experts, there must be an equal balance between technology and the real world. There are the homebodies who spend their entire lives on the internet, wasting away till they are pallid shells of their former selves; and there are the extroverts, constantly out-and-about, disdainful of anything even remotely connected to the World Wide Web. If one could attain a level balance between those two extremes, then they have achieved a harmony greater than any being could imagine. For the internet is a majestic trap set to either lure or repel, and only the most wise and skilful can evade its lethal clutches. Much like a bug turning against nature, and choosing not the enter the spider's we-

_Click._

With a single tap of the small boxed 'x' in the top right corner, the browser that contained the ridiculous essay was lost forever. At least until someone decided to go through the internet history, to which they would find the link perfectly archived. Though Luka, not being a geek, had no knowledge of this history cache, and so happily continued to believe that there was zero evidence she had actually started reading an utterly meaningless article on how the internet was really a black hole which sucked in every poor being who happened upon it.

Luka rolled her eyes. There was no way anyone would actually spend an entire day just surfing the internet. No way at all. Every one of those screenames had to have a person behind them, and they had to a have a life. At least, that was what Luka naively believed.

Ah, the innocent philosophies of those unknowing to the exact vastness of the internet. They need to lurk moar.

Luka rubbed her temples, now growing weary of the pointless information she repeatedly found herself stumbling upon. Finally she hit the shutdown button, and watched as the laptop slowly flickered out of life.

Stretching out against the back of the chair, she yawned widely. Luka had only arisen from bed half an hour ago and was already tired again. The atmosphere was not helping much either. The house was still dark from what little light the early morning sun spread, and a sleepy silence hung around like fine mist. Rubbing her eyes nonchalantly, Luka glanced at the glowing red numbers of a nearby digital clock.

7:15 on the dot.

Leaning back into a stretch again, Luka ran a hand through her pale watermelon hair. The lazily tied back strands felt straw-like, and absently she made a mental note to wash her hair later that evening.

Mind becoming numbingly blank for a moment, Luka stared somnolently into space. Then quickly, with a blink and swish of her head, she woke herself up and pushed gently off the chair. If she didn't get moving now, she would barely make it through the day.

Forgetting what the time was when she had checked the clock only moments earlier, she consciously noted the correct minute as she took a second glimpse back, before departing from the room promptly. There was somewhere she wished to be.

Twenty minutes later, sitting cross-legged and absently stirring a cup of hot coffee, Luka pondered over exactly _how_ this had happened. She wasn't exactly sure when the odd visit to the café became a daily habit, or what even prompted her to do so in the first place (most likely the allure of pancakes and hot drinks), but she was not complaining. Not when this coffee tasted absolutely _delicious._

Sipping the beverage gently, she gazed out over the cup and at the now familiar waiter. His back was turned towards her as he finished wiping down one of the tables, the movement making his lengthy hair sway like a curtain in the breeze. Successfully sanitizing the surface, he shoved the cleaning rag in his trouser pocket for later use. With the current work finished, he grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it across the tiled floor, drawing it over to the one-seater table Luka was parked by. He gave her a swaggering smirk as he noticed she had been staring – or innocuously observing as Luka preferred to call it.

"So," Gakupo began, seating himself by Luka's table, resting his elbows on the edge.

"So?" Luka mimicked questioningly, raising an eyebrow. She placed the now nearly empty coffee mug down, making a thick thud on the wooden counter.

"Are you planning on making a habit out of coming here?"

"I already have."

Gakupo made a tutting sound, leaning back on his chair. "Witty, witty."

Trying to suppress a triumphant grin at the small verbal victory, Luka picked up the coffee and drank down the remaining mouthfuls.

Seeing she wasn't planning on saying anymore, Gakupo continued prodding her with questions. "Is there a particular reason, then?"

"No reason." Luka easily replied.

"No one comes to the same café nearly every morning for two weeks for 'no reason'."

It had been two weeks already? Luka sure had lost track of time. It seemed like far shorter than that. She should really start to get a life. Sighing in defeat, Luka concentrated on a loose strand of hair in front of her eyes rather than Gakupo's face directly.

"I just don't like making breakfast. So I eat here."

"Uh-huh." He sounded extremely unconvinced.

"It's the truth, believe it or not."

"Fine then, stay in denial."

"I will."

"So you admit you're in denial?"

"That was _not_ what I meant and you very well know it." Luka huffed, an almost childish glare puckering her face. Not wanting the irritating man to say any more, she let her unbecoming expression drop, calming herself enough to ask him a normal question.

"So do you eat breakfast here or at home?"

"I sense a bad attempt at changing the topic."

"Just shut up and answer the question."

"That right there was a paradox. Since technically I can't shut up and still answer question at the same time-"

He was cut short by the acid glare Luka sent him. Gakupo swore that if looks could kill, he be six feet under and pushing up daisies. "Okay, okay…" he surrendered, trying to ignore the almost death-inducing stare. It was starting to send chills down his spine.

"If you must know, I eat breakfast at home. And to answer what you will probably ask next, I usually eat cornflakes."

Luka never even had the intention of asking what exactly he ate, but shrugged at the information. Although, it surprised her slightly. She assumed such an _avid_ eggplant lover such as him would be eating the purple fruit day and night.

"I thought you would have eggplants or something." She commented, voicing her internal thoughts. Luka then blinked in puzzlement when the only reply she received from Gakupo was a confused expression.

…Wait. Crap. Crap. _Crap._

The real-world Gakupo never mentioned eggplants to her. At all. Only crazy internet Gakupo had.

"I mean," Luka thought quickly, acting on pure instinct as she spewed out the first excuse her slowly panicking mind threw out. "I just get this vibe from you that would eat that kind of food. Call it intuition or something."

Luka was not one for expertly wiggling her way out of situations and even to her ears the lie sounded flimsy and obviously fake. She tried hard to suppress a cringe. Although, when she looked at Gakupo, all Luka's worries vanished as quickly as they came.

"You really get that impression from me? That's… Amazing!"

The man was almost literally _sparkling_ with glee.

"I actually do like eggplants, I happen to think of them as the most divine food to be grown on earth. People seem so surprised when I tell them that, as if it's something that's completely unexpected. But what's more surprising is that they don't pick up on it as soon as they meet me. I do send out eggplant-loving vibes! You, my lady, are a sharp one."

Luka's eye twitched. Just a bit. She much rather preferred the cocky joker she was talking to under a minute ago, not this eggplant _freak._ What had she done?

"Ahaha…" Luka weakly laughed, not sure whether make a serious reply or not. Luckily she was saved the trouble by the metallic jingle of the bell on the door. A customer had entered.

Gakupo dropped his eccentric attitude almost immediately. "Well, excuse me. I have work to do now." Smoothly sliding out of his seat and brushing the creases from his shirt, he stood and walked over to the customer, a pleasant smile plastered on his face. Luka, feeling no more need to stay, gathered herself and briskly left.

The walk home seemed a lot shorter than usual. Luka found herself blinking in surprise when she realised she was already at her front door. Fumbling her keys but unlocking the door none the less, Luka walked in and slipped her shoes off, shoving them roughly to the side. By habit she walked straight into the study room – which now didn't smell as bad, thank god – and sat down at the desk. Her laptop was laid out eagerly before her.

Luka felt disappointed. She had gone out, got an early start, and once again all she did was return home and hole herself back up in front of the computer. Annoyed at herself, Luka opened the laptop, and took her anger out by killing aliens in a web browser game she had stumbled upon a few days ago. One click and the alien's head exploded. Somehow it relieved a little tension, and before Luka knew it she was absorbed in gameplay.

For the rest of the day the only things heard in the house were electronic gunfire and random bouts of swearing.

* * *

Lying in bed, Luka stared at the ceiling. Her hair, freshly washed, splayed across the pillow like a waterfall. She rubbed her eyes and grimaced as flashes of colour obscured her vision. Staring fixedly at a computer screen all day definitely did not improve eyesight.

After playing the alien destruction game singly for a few hours that day, Luka had switched to a multiplayer server. There she killed (or 'pwned' as they said) even more extraterrestrial life as well as other players. It was… fun. Almost. Luka found she was becoming much too accustomed to the odd abbreviations and speaking habits of those on the internet. It was unnerving. The last thing Luka wanted was to become another anonymous loser spouting pointless repetitions of silly catchphrases.

Groaning, Luka flipped over on her side.

Tomorrow, she would commence operation 'Get a life!'

For now, sleep was in order.

* * *

The next morning Luka had convinced herself she was only going on the internet to check her email. She would then switch off the computer, leave the house, and be a normal person.

Unfortunately her plan was thwarted at the first step. Tapping her finger impatiently against the body of the laptop, Luka stared at the loading bar of the browser. It had been sitting at the quarter-way mark for a few minutes and Luka had the sneaking suspicion her internet had died. Hitting the refresh button only once, she was immediately met with the irritating 'This page cannot be displayed' error message. Sighing, she closed the lid of the laptop. She supposed this was only to be expected. Old laptop = old internet = bad connection. It was probably about time she got some new hardware.

…That wasn't a bad idea at all. What better way to spend a day than out and about, searching for something that's needed in the household? Luka looked back at the PC. Although the poor thing looked like it was at the end of its days, it wasn't actually in that awful a shape. The system still worked and there was barely any lag. It seemed the only major flaw was the pitiful internet. A feeling of determination rose up in Luka. She would go shopping! For a modem!

Standing up so quickly the chair nearly toppled over backwards, Luka strode through the house, grabbing her bag and shoes along the way. Her footsteps echoed on the floors and the last sound that reverberated through the deserted rooms was the quick slamming of a door.

Luka was fortunate to have a house relatively close to all the necessary departments, but the walk that followed made her seriously think about investing in a car. By the time she reached the automatic doors of the electronics warehouse, sweat had beaded along her forehead and her clothes felt heavy. Sighing in content as the cool air conditioned air swept over her, she entered the store with a purposeful stride. A chirpy tune played on a few overhead speakers, welcoming but also repulsing her with the excessive cheeriness. Luka used her selective hearing to ignore it.

Wandering around offhandedly, casually inspecting the latest releases in laptop and desktop PCs, Luka took her sweet time. No rush, especially when it was becoming blistering hot outside. However she soon found herself standing over a display of modems, unable to contain her growing zeal. Now came the tough part – choosing an internet provider that wouldn't screw her over.

A few signs sat beside various brand name modems, large text and fluoro colours inviting the onlooker to invest in an 'amazing one-time' deal. Luka raised an eyebrow. She may be uneducated in technology, but she could tell a rip-off when she saw one. Shaking her head, she continued studying the available deals closely, leaning over the display table. Falling into the mantra of bargain searching, she barely noticed the presence behind her until she heard a familiar chuckle.

"It seems fate wants us to meet again."

Luka straightened up hastily, turning quickly enough to catch the wink and waggle of eyebrows from her resident eggplant fanatic.

"Gakupo!" She nearly squeaked, her voice rising in astonishment. A moment later she relaxed, her shoulders sagging as she exhaled and placed a hand against her chest. "You… surprised me." She stated, her voice carrying none of the usual accusatory tone. She realised this herself and an immediate scowl flickered across her face. "What are you doing here?"

Gakupo raised his hands in mock surrender. "Can't anyone go out to buy a new laptop nowadays?"

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I have the day off."

Knowing that any question she might throw at him would only gain an unarguable response, Luka admitted her defeat. Shrugging, she turned her back and faced the modems, sending her concentration to her previous task. Gakupo moved beside her, his eyes scanning over what she was looking at. Luka pointedly disregarded him.

"Internet, hm. You upgrading or is this your first time?" Gakupo casually asked, leaning back in a relaxed motion.

"Upgrading. My current internet moves slower than a handicapped snail." Luka hyperbolically replied, her lips pursing. "Driving me nuts…"

Gakupo nodded all too knowingly. "The internet is a useful resource, high quality is needed."

Luka concealed a snort. Useful resource for what? Porn? "I was thinking more for chatting and playing games." She answered truthfully, not bothered to think up a snarky remark. She hoped that finalised any other questions; now he can just leave…

Much to her displeasure he remained, with a stupidly happy expression on his face. "I do quite a bit of those things as well. Do you have msn? Go on any chatsites? We should talk online sometime."

Luka stood perfectly still, mortified. She bit her lip as if it could take back the words that slipped out. Her mind whirred for a logical response and, for the second time in far too soon, she found herself spilling lies. She would be a practised con artist by the end of this.

"I… go on chatsites. Quite frequently. But I never stay on one chatsite for too long. I prefer to move around, trying all different places. I don't like to stay on just one. I often change my username each time. For a new feel." Her phrases came out slightly broken, as most of them were spliced together in the final second. She gulped. Not even Mr. Thick-Head Gakupo could fall for this one. But she had been wrong before.

Stupidity himself gleamed.

"That's quite unique! So I guess it would go against your usual style to chat to me on one site, eh? Well, we see each other everyday at the café, so it doesn't matter. I'm glad we spend that time together."

Then he smiled.

Not a smirk or a grin, but a full-fledged smile. Surprisingly chaste and honest, Luka was dumbstruck. Her mouth hung slightly agape, twitching with unspoken words. He looked… _good_ when he smiled. Really good. Her stomach did a weird flip-flop, like she had eaten a bad burrito. Only she _hadn't_ eaten a burrito. So what was this feeling?

"Here," Gakupo said, shoving a box into her hands. Luka jumped, the unexpected weight snapping her out of her strange thoughts. "What-" She began, but was interrupted before her full query was voiced.

"It's a good brand of modem." Gakupo pointed towards the nearby display he had taken it from. "Decently priced. I recommend it." Luka could only stare and silently nod. The suddenness of everything kept her unwary.

"Well, I have to go. I have the morning shift tomorrow, so I guess I'll be seeing you then!" He winked cockily (Luka began to feel the familiar exasperation, to her relief), spun on his heels and he walked till he was out the door and out of sight.

"Yeah. Bye." Luka muttered lamely. Then shaking her head, Luka replaced her bewildered expression with a firm scowl. The last thing she needed was him! Her fingers curled around the box in her hands. Despite his words, she ploughed through every modem the store had to offer, searching for a better deal. Much to her displeasure, Gakupo had the right sense. Defeated by him for possibly the third time this day, she grabbed the very modem he suggested and marched towards the cash register, a sober expression on her face as if she was resigning her freedom for an eternity.

* * *

The remainder of the day was devoted to getting her newly purchased internet in working order. After a missing manual, a few phone calls and a lot of determination Luka successfully had it set up. The moment of truth came when she clicked the blue 'e' icon on her desktop.

Much to her glee, the internet loaded effortlessly. Luka metaphorically patted herself on the back.

She proceeded to test a few sites, loading a video or two, and was satisfied with the connection speed. Finally, she logged in to her most visited page.

_You have signed into InstantChatRoom18 as MaguroLover_

_Dancing_Samurai(3.14pm): Odd seeing you on at this time!_

_MaguroLover(3.14pm): Hey._

_Dancing_Samurai(3.15pm): Good to see you, gorgeous~_

Normally Luka would roll her eyes at any sort of nickname that weirdo would call her, but unexpectedly the image of his honestly smiling face flashed through her mind. His lavender eyes were crinkled fondly, hair falling down beside his cheeks softly.

Gakupo's comments didn't seem as immature and perverted anymore.

* * *

**A/N:** O HAI GUYS. LOOK WHO'S BACK FROM THE DEAD.

So after a huge and unnecessary hiatus, I return with an update. I'm sorry I'm such a lazy-ass writer OTL.

I actually have a plan for this story though lololol. There are three more chapters and the story's done. Hopefully I can finish it xDD I have an awesome plot twist in store. Hurr.

And thanks for the reviews! ;A; I don't always reply, but I read them all thoroughly and I love them. You guys are awesome; I won't give up on this fanfiction!

Preview of something from the next chapter~

"_Luka may be able to deny things like there was no tomorrow, but she certainly wasn't stupid. So, being the intelligent woman that she was, she could just possibly consider the notion of maybe being…"_


	4. ILU

**Chapter Four:** ILU _(I love you)_

* * *

With hair pulled back in a loose bun and a peachy cocktail dress hugging her body, Luka had never looked more elegant. At least, as elegant as one can be when they have a deadly expression that rivalled Medusa.

Tightening her lips to a thin thread, hiding the perfectly applied lipstick, Luka glared at the rather well-presented Gakupo. He was resting his head against his knuckles, giving a sideways stare and cocky smile. Neither spoke, both of them enjoying – or in the case of Luka, rather loathing – each other's company.

Gakupo waggled his eyebrows. Luka grated her teeth.

This would be a long night.

Smoothing out her dress even though there were no wrinkles, Luka let out a small breath and, for possibly the fifteenth time, contemplated exactly how this monstrosity of an event happened. The world faded into black and, like in a sappy romance anime, she felt a flashback coming…

_It was a usual day. The sky was blue, the sun rose, the trees grew and life went on. In fact, life had been went-on-ing very well lately. Tapping her spoon rhythmically against the glass plate, Luka felt especially bubbly, and actually had to repress the urge to start humming, singing or (god forbid) dancing. Unfortunately someone _had_ to notice her enthusiastic mood, and made a point to stick his nose in it._

"_You caught the happy bug or something?" the femininely-haired waiter inquired and mocked simultaneously, flashing his white teeth in a grin. _

"_I would say so," Luka replied, sarcasm sitting beneath the words quietly, "I heard it's contagious."_

"_Very." Gakupo agreed with a nod, his grin widening. "See now, I've got it."_

"_Oh dear. I hope you don't die." She responded with the emotion of a rock._

"_It amazes me that you can be scornful and happy at the same time." Shaking his head, he pulled up a chair and sat. "So are you gonna tell me what's got you like this?"_

_Honestly, Luka barely knew herself what the whole mood was about. She very well might be completely suicidal the next day, she thought pessimistically, considering the suddenness of this disposition. Staring Gakupo in the face, Luka almost smiled. Almost being key, as even when abnormally gleeful, Luka drew the line at showing Gakupo her sweet side – if you could call it that._

"_Do I need a reason to be happy?"_

"_Do birds fly?" _

"…_Yes."_

"_Is the sea wet?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Is fire hot?"_

"_Yes, okay, I get your point."_

"_Does green mean go?"  
_

_Becoming somewhat infuriated, Luka narrowed her eyes at him. "It does."_

"_Is blood red?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Will you go out with me?"_

"_I told you, yes, now can we move on—" _

_Luka's words cut out sharply, breath hitched in her thought and her eyes nearly popped out of her head._

"_I— That's— It did not count! You idiot!" Luka flustered, trying to rectify her erroneous agreement. Gakupo merely broke out into a stupid grin, looking as joyful as a child in a candy shop._

"_A yes is a yes." He tutted, taking on a lecturing tone without losing any of his comical charm. "I hope you're free tomorrow night."_

"_I-I am, but I'm certainly not going on some kind of date with _you_ of all people—"_

"_I'll pick you at seven. That alright?" With a gentlemanly smile he ignored all her objections, and Luka regretted ever mentioning her street address in an earlier conversation. _

_A minute of silence passed, Luka hissing under her breath and Gakupo sparkling._

"…_Okay."_

_With confirmation, Gakupo then jumped from his chair and did a strange jig, which was assumedly a freakish kind of victory dance. Luka collapsed her face into her palms, groaning, knowing she got herself into something that no amount of joking and white lies would fix. And out the window went her happy mood._

Harshly dropping back into reality, away from the rather too vivid recollection, Luka frowned and stared at the matte wall, rather than her 'date'. Everything this night only fuelled a deep annoyance that would surely give her wrinkles between her eyes. How irritating it was when Gakupo showed up on time; when he noticed and complemented her graduating eyeshadow; when he pulled out her chair for her; when he let her order first; when he did that blithe smile which made her stomach flip upside-down…

Breaking the reverie, she noticed Gakupo staring at her. Suddenly, with only a small grin as a warning, he pulled an utterly ridiculous face, reminding Luka strongly of a chimpanzee. On crack.

"What the _hell_ was that?" Luka demanded, her expression horrified… and kind of amused.

"It was my signature stop-date-from-spacing-out-like-a-zombie look. I think it worked."

"There are more subtle ways you could have done it. Now some five-year-old across the room is staring at you."

Gakupo turned in his seat, spotting what indeed was a young child scrutinizing him with an unnervingly profound gaze. Shifting his chair over so he did not have to suffer the direct stare of the creepy infant, he ended up subsequently closer to Luka, which was so convenient that she wondered if he planned these things right from the beginning. A few seconds of silence passed before Gakupo struck up a friendly banter.

"You enjoying yourself?"

"Can't really complain, I suppose. Yet wouldn't mind if the meal could come a little quicker."

It would have saved a lot of pain, Luka mulled, if only dinner had arrived in time to relinquish them of the awkward first hour. Fragmented conversations that died quickly; time that was wasted staring at the menu; and constant wiggling in her seat were the more exhilarating aspects of it all. Of course, Luka had been incurably uptight the entire time, her shoulders set in stone and her back erect. She warily gave Gakupo a little more credit for the ridiculous stunt he pulled; it did end up breaking the ice between them.

"I'm sure it's getting there. Patience, my dear."

Apart from the twitch of an eyebrow, Luka otherwise show no aggravation towards the endearing-yet-somehow-insulting nickname. After reconsidering, she took a sharp breath, ready to spill out a stream of protests, yet luck happened to be on her date's side as a bubbly waitress announced the arrival of their order. Luka spared no time, digging into her meal. The faster she ate, the faster she was out of here.

For 15 minutes at least, the only noise between the two were the clicks and scrapes of cutlery – the most civil conversation all night. Then when Luka had totally scoured the plate of every morsel, not even a dot of sauce left behind, she had to admit there was no delaying the inevitable.

Gakupo was casually finishing off a side-bowl of soup as Luka, somewhat hesitantly, spoke up.

"I hope you're paying for tonight."

"Well of course!" Gakupo placed his spoon on the table with a flourish. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't!"

"I wouldn't put it past you to dump the bill on me."

"You think too little of me." he playfully reprimanded. "Beneath this incredibly sexy exterior," – Luka coughed – "is a very caring individual, you should know."

Eye-rolling, Luka rested her elbows on the table and her head on her hands. "Are we getting dessert?"

A loud choke came from the egotistical man.

"My budget isn't _that_ big."

Impulsively, a grin stretched out across Luka's lips.

"And it's probably not the only thing that _isn't that big_ either."

The silence lasted for three seconds.

"…Did you just make a penis joke?"

"Maybe I did."

Luka sniggered mischievously, whatever maturity she previously upheld in public being thrown into some dark closet in the back of her mind. Really, with such an open opportunity, her vestigial adolescent self could not hold itself back. A small part of her muttered that she should quickly make a snide remark, redeem her dignity for all it's worth; but for some blasphemous reason, she did not. Maybe she was finally letting her guard down. Maybe, on the inside, she was just a child that wanted to have fun.

Maybe there was something weird in the food.

Anyways, whatever caused the 180-degree flip around, it made no difference to Gakupo as a rich chuckle welled in his throat.

"Full of surprises. No doubt about it."

Gakupo smiled – that stupid, distracting, heart-warming smile – and Luka's stomach turned over backwards. Forget fluttery butterflies, it felt more like a stampede in there.

Now seemed like a great time to get the hell out.

"Well," She casually stated, plastering a ridiculously pleasant smile on her face, "It's getting late."

"It's not even eight o'clock yet."

"It's getting _late._" Luka emphasised, her expression remaining unchanged as she began to stand. Although, she didn't quite make it – he acted much faster, graciously relocating to her side to offer her an aiding hand. Her cobalt eyes widened just a little.

For a moment she stared impassively, then with her fairy-floss hair brushing her jaw line, she turned and hurried out the other side of the chair. Just in time to hide the rosy tinges that threatened her cool expression.

"I can stand by myself."

Gakupo tutted, rolled his eyes, and leaning on one leg he let out a lazy smile. Even with her back turned Luka could feel his eyes wandering over her, and with a tight clench of her fists she willed her blushing cheeks to fade. She turned quickly and met him with a _hopefully_ non-embarrassing, normal, Luka-like expression. Her only barely built-up wall of confidence all but toppled over when the cause of all these ridiculous emotions laughed. _At her._

Caught between the desire to hide her (still, unreasonably red) face and to give the senseless man a good slap, Luka merely stood with a tiny pout pursing her lips. Pointedly, she ignored that his laugh was in good nature and had an odd, husky melody to it. She felt like she could listen to that laugh for hours. But that was bordering on a little absurd, so Luka blamed her delusions on the fact she was a hermit and never talked to real people.

Gakupo raised a questioning eyebrow, silently inquiring as to whether she was going to speak, and when she did not he allowed himself to offer, "Shall I now impress by offering you a walk home?"

Simply blinking her salmon eyelashes as a part-reply, Luka scrounged her horribly disordered brain for an excuse to timely pursue her own means of transport. She needed a pretext that couldn't be thrown back into her face, that hopefully wouldn't leave her – for not the first time – awkward and chagrined.

The bemoaned, condemning words she ended up spurting out managed to achieve the perfect polar opposite.

"Maybe next time."

Gakupo smirked. "I'll be taking your word on that."

_..That was not what she meant at all!_

Luka cringed. She had sold her soul to the devil and just, for all intents and purposes, promised the annoying man a second date.

_Well, no getting out of it now._

* * *

She nearly slaughtered him the first time he tried to hold her hand.

It was a Saturday. Luka wore her favourite green cardigan and Gakupo had on an incredibly sexy black jacket. Not that she'd ever tell him. They were walking side by side on the cobbled mall street, chatting aimlessly and window-shopping at every second store or so. Luka was content for once, since the flamboyant man had managed to go nearly half an hour without any unwarranted teasing. Then, without any prior notification, something warm slipped between her fingers—

_Wham!_

She threw her arm, thwacking Gakupo straight under the chin.

He had to inform a worrying old lady who rushed over that he was indeed fine, though his wobbly smile barely hid obvious pain Luka had dealt.

She had apologised ruefully after – it had been a reflex, no actual harmful intent – though not without a bit of smugness at her own strength.

That was the second date.

On their third, Gakupo took her out to eat again. Luka nearly exploded from contained joy when she noticed tuna on the menu. He had laughed at her, of course, and she kicked him underneath the table. After ordering, he made a small remark about knowing someone else who liked tuna. Luka nervously joked that she couldn't be the only one, all the while making a mental note to be more inconspicuous.

On the seventh date, she leant against his shoulder while watching a movie. Holding his hand was almost customary when she was beside him.

After their tenth date, Luka had hopped on her laptop to start a conversation with the_ '_Dancing Samurai' as usual. He was more idiotic and perverted than ever online, but she had noticed him mellowing. Rather like how, in the real world, he was becoming more of that silly flirter she first met in that fateful chatroom. Slowly a medium was being reached. She wondered if she was still different enough to fool Gakupo much longer…

On the twelfth date, she hinted about her online persona. Gakupo didn't take the bait. All the shampoo he used must have soaked into his brain. Luka slowly smiled.

An idea was forming.

Luka chuckled lightly to herself, leaning her head against the armrest of her couch. She was curled cat-like into a small bundle, confining herself to the chair's corner despite more than enough room to stretch out. Her hair, messed and splaying around her shoulders, seemed a flowery mauve colour in the dim light of the television. She was unfocusedly watching a late-night comedy show, far too preoccupied to efficiently follow the plot and jokes of the various skits. Luka blinked her eyes as they watered when she yawned, and sleepily she dragged herself into a normal sitting position. A nearby clock chimed, metallic and slow, causing her to stare at it until the numbers began to make sense.

_2.00 am, apparently_.

Straightening her flannelette pyjamas that had skewed uncomfortably with her movements, Luka stifled another abrupt yawn and flicked off the TV. The sudden darkness that encroached relaxed her immediately, so with some unwillingness she had to haul herself of the couch and begin to lurch towards her bedroom.

Within the minute she was languidly crawling under the blankets, her toes wriggling pleasantly. The pillow was soft and the blanket smelled faintly of peaches. Luka shut her eyes.

She lay still, waiting for the familiar tug of sleep to pull her under. On the back of her eyelids, before her sluggish sight, a few colourful smudges danced; a faint reminder of the TV screen burned temporarily into her mind. Some mellow minutes passed, and Luka slowly found the smudges to be increasing in brightness rather than fading into the slumbering darkness. Slowly, she blinked open her eyes.

Pure blackness greeted her. She closed them tightly again, fidgeting with the position of the blanket. A small analogue clock ticked softly from her bedside table.

Luka rolled over to her side.

_Sleep…_

She flipped onto her stomach.

_Go to sleep…_

The bed covers got violently kicked off.

Luka glared into the darkness. A sigh – sounding more like a hiss – escaped her lips. This was not a time for insomnia! The woman had things to do in the morning. Like clean the study. Again. That room sure was a conundrum; when out of use, it got dirty. When in use, it _still_ gathered filth like there was no tomorrow.

She considered convincing Gakupo to do it. Add a little fib about being allergic to dust, maybe…

Despite herself, she chuckled. It was doubtful he'd buy it. That man had been getting surely better at picking up when she wasn't quite being truthful. And that was what made it amazing her second identity hadn't been discovered yet.

It had to be pure luck, Gakupo's denseness and a lot of tuna that managed to keep Luka calm and in control.

The ridiculous gaily man (who uses _too_ many hair products) had a special way of getting the best and worst from her. And Luka couldn't help but smile. Normally, she would have slapped herself for being so giddy and girlish about a guy but, in the darkness, no one could judge.

Rolling herself into a sitting position on the side of the mattress (all tiredness had vanished and did not seem likely to return soon; plus, once she started thinking, there was no end), Luka flicked on her bedside lamp and waited for the smudgy blindness to disappear.

Wandering out of her room again, rubbing her eyes with the back of her sleeve, she found herself trotting towards the infamously dirty study. Flicking on the weak ceiling light and flopping herself in the desk chair, Luka blew a few strands of hair out of her eyes and waited for her nearly antique laptop to warm up.

She starting thinking and smiling again, absently twirling her hair. After loading, Luka, now habitually, logged onto the computer and opened up a browser, quickly clicking her favourite bookmark. The chat site flashed before her eyes, pink hearts and all still there.

_You have signed into __PrivateChatRoom__ as MaguroLover_

_Dancing_Samurai(2.41am): Why hello, honey! What you doing up this late, you need your beauty sleep~_

_MaguroLover(2.41am): What are _you _doing up, is what I should be asking._

_Dancing_Samurai(2.42am): I was planning on retiring, but now that I have something pretty to entertain me… I think I'll stay~_

_MaguroLover(2.42am): Well aren't you easy to please. But I'll be going to bed soon anyway. I just wanted to check my messages._

A lie. Luka had gradually realised her indifference was masking concern – and sometimes, she barely masked it all. She really was getting soft…

_Dancing_Samurai(2.42am): I see. Well, my sexy-as-eggplants maiden, since we are here we should talk for at least a little bit, right~?_

_MaguroLover(2.43am): I guess. _

That's when Luka remembered. Her _idea_, which had recently formed into a little plan.

_MaguroLover(2.43am): Oh, actually… There was something I wished to speak to you about._

_Dancing_Samurai(2.43am): What is it? Your bra size~?_

_MaguroLover(2.43am): No! Please drop that thought…_

_MaguroLover(2.44am): What I'm trying to say is, we've known each other for a while online now, so maybe… we should meet?_

While waiting for his reply, Luka couldn't help but grin at her wonderful scheme. Oh, how she looked forward to seeing his face when he realised exactly _who_ she was. In her mind, it was a lukewarm evening, and she approached behind him. He would turn, his eyes would widen, and a smile would work its way onto his face. She would smile back. And maybe he would plant that soft kiss on her lips, like he'd been trying to do for the past two months.

She stopped herself there, shaking her head. Really, she wasn't even a woman who liked romance! Luka focused back on the chat.

_Dancing_Samurai(2.46am): …Seriously? Truly? Are you not kidding?_

_MaguroLover(2.47am): I am being honest, really! We could meet next weekend, if that is no problem…_

_Dancing_Samurai(2.47am): Of course not! It is perfect!_

_MaguroLover(2.48am): Okay then. How about Saturday 6pm at the East Park? Do you know where that is?_

_Dancing_Samurai(2.48am): I do! This is wonderful~ I get to meet my lovely tuna-princess~!_

_MaguroLover(2.49am): As long as you promise me not to call me that again._

Luka nearly sighed at her over-apathy, because mostly, in reality, the nicknames just made her laugh. Another reason she couldn't wait to drop this persona completely.

_Dancing_Samurai(2.49am): Promised! But one thing, why did you want to meet now, all of a sudden?_

_MaguroLover(2.50am): Please do not ask me why. _

_MaguroLover(2.50am): You'll see when we meet._

_Dancing_Samurai(2.50am): Well, I'll take your word for that! Now dear, I think I might go sleep and have magnificent dreams about you~_

_MaguroLover(2.51am): Just leave me out of you perverse fantasies. Goodnight, idiot._

_Dancing_Samurai(2.51am): Night, sugar~_

_Dancing_Samurai has signed out of the chat_

_You have signed out of the chat_

Leaning back on her chair, an accomplished satisfaction settled inside her and Luka felt her eyelids droop. Calling it a night, she shut down her laptop, flicked off the lights, and once again made the sightless trek back to her darkened room.

This time the tiredness was all-encompassing, inviting Luka to a deep sleep with sweet dreams. An elfin smile found its way on her lips again, and she vaguely wondered what caused it. She curled under the sheets, gently closing her eyes, and it was in this limbo between conscious and slumbering that it came to her in an incredible epiphany.

And it wasn't as scary as Luka thought it was going to be.

_Hey, Gakupo._

_I love you._

* * *

**A/N:** Combined the parts together. Sorry if you get confusing alert messages ;_;

If all goes to plan, two more chapters left! And a short epilogue ;P

If only I wasn't so slow...


	5. Disconnection

**Chapter Five: **Disconnection

* * *

Cold dew glittered on empty benches in the morning light, catching Luka's eyes, until a bitter breeze blew right through her jacket, effectively distracting her from admiring the scenery. Winter had encroached upon the town suddenly, and Luka pulled her far too flimsy scarf tighter around her neck in the best attempt to ward off the chill.

Gakupo's small café looked even more cosy than usual in this weather, and Luka quickened her pace, impatient to move into the warmth. She paused for a moment a few steps from the door, noticing the windows had turned opaque from the temperature. The girlish urge to wipe a message on the dewy surface, maybe something along the lines of _'Gakupo x Luka 4 evar'_, made Luka giggle, and with that simple mood-lifter she pushed inside with a jingle of the bell.

Within the building, Gakupo was mindlessly rearranging chairs around tables, the screech of wood on floor the only sound until Luka entered. Gakupo looked up expectantly when she stepped over to him, her heeled boots clacking.

"Good morning," He greeted, smiling lightly.

"'Morning," Luka acknowledged in return, then wandered to a nearby table. "I'll have the usual," she told him, without even glancing at the menu, while seating herself neatly.

"You do realise we are not technically open for another fifteen minutes," Gakupo responded instantly.

Luka turned to him, and put on a cat-like smile. "Please?"

An odd look momentarily flashed across his face, but then he sighed theatrically as he did always, moving off behind the counter to fix her breakfast. Luka blinked at his retreating figure, somewhat confused by the first expression. Luka shook her head, clearing her thoughts. It was the early morning, he was simply tired – probably from spending late nights doing frivolous things on the internet – and that was all.

Luka tapped a rhythmless beat on the table until he returned with steaming pancakes and a small pot of tea that sent a delightful aroma into the air. Inhaling deeply and flipping her pink locks over her shoulders so that they would not fall into her food (which had, rather grossly, happened before), Luka smiled up at Gakupo in thanks.

She would have then started to dig into her meal, but instead Luka froze. He was looking towards her with that unexpected expression on his face again, something foreign that Luka could not discern. She found herself suddenly nervous, placing her hands in her lap and fumbling with them. She hesitated for a couple of seconds before uneasily speaking.

"…Is something wrong?"

As quickly as the mood came on, it disappeared, and Gakupo snapped his head up.

"Oh, not at all!" He quickly amended, waving his hands. "I merely got lost in thought for a moment there, haha."

Luka stared at him, mostly unconvinced.

"Alright," Gakupo edgily admitted, his shoulders tensing a little, "I have something to… ask you. But finish eating first."

"Oh, okay." Luka muttered, not much more reassured. She prodded at her food, managing her way through at least one pancake and half a cup of light tea, her appetite oddly dry after Gakupo's words.

Gakupo busied himself around the café, choosing not to sit opposite Luka like he would on any other morning. She almost missed the way he would ask awkward questions right when she had a mouthful of food, forcing her to splutter and choke indignant words out between bites. Luka wondered if this was karma – she _had_ once wished that Gakupo would be less exasperating…

Her reverie was quickly broken when Gakupo finally did sit himself at the table, his brows creased in a pensive expression, like he was trying to choose the right words. Luka sat in silence, waiting for him to speak. Finally, he took a breath, and began.

"Are you serious about this relationship?"

"Of course." Luka replied honestly, no hesitation. After her long ice queen act, admitting something like this was almost a relief. Now all that was left was to admit that certain _other_ feeling. Back to the present though, Luka realised it was a rather odd question to ask out of the blue. _Where was he going with this?_

Gakupo made no movements to continue at first, as her answer seemed to make him more nervous, and he directed his gaze out a window. Then abruptly he turned his sight back, and broke out into an apologetic smile.

"This really isn't the right place for me to say this," Gakupo began, his appearance turning meek. "We should meet up elsewhere. Would Saturday at the East Park be alright for you? Say, at about three in the afternoon?"

Luka blinked. It was exact place, only a few hours earlier, of the meet she was intended to have with Gakupo as her online self. Baffled, but unable to show her surprise, she nodded. "That's fine."

Gakupo's eyes melded into a guilty look, and Luka hoped it was because of all this mystery about why exactly he wanted to talk to her. His mouth opened, ready to say something more, but the door's bell tinkled merrily, breaking the mood in a second. Gakupo stood and, with only one quick glance at Luka, moved swiftly over to the new patron, pleasantries and manners all the way.

Luka heaved a sigh, deciding to take this as her cue to exit. With a final sip from her unfinished drink, she removed herself from her chair, sparing only a few moments to place some coins on the table. Moving off, just before she reached the doorway, Luka looked back. Gakupo was staring after her, and when he noticed her own look, he gave a small wave of goodbye. She waved back, and left.

As she walked the streets, which were now slightly warmer and more bearable than earlier, her heart felt strangely heavy. The whole scene that just took place left her more confused than anything had before. Luka was never the best at understanding emotions in others, but she thought she had become quite proficient when it came to her effeminate man. Obviously, she still had some work to do.

Disappointed in her own shortcomings, Luka kept replaying the situation in her head. She wasn't sure what she could have done differently to reap a different outcome, but Luka was let down that she didn't even manage to sneak a quick kiss on his cheek…

Honestly though, _what did Gakupo mean?_

Luka stopped, and rubbed at her temples. This was going in circles. She had to stay her thinking. Saturday was only a day away; whatever important thing Gakupo had to impart on her would be known then and only then.

Now considering the closeness of the date, Luka realised she should probably start deciding what exactly she was going to wear. As a woman of efficiency, when she started dating Gakupo, Luka came to the fast conclusion that picking out attractive clothing was not her forte. And it annoyed her greatly.

This in mind, Luka strode home with a purposeful gait. Officially distracted for the rest of the day, she huffed around the house, messing and rearranging her wardrobe. By the afternoon, she had succeeded in not only gaining a decent outfit, but also creating a large clutter for her to tidy.

Now flopped out on the couch, Luka tiredly blinked at the ceiling, and her mind wandered. She could all but help drifting back to the same thoughts of the morning.

_What did he want to ask her anyway?_ She severely hoped it wouldn't be to see what colour bra she was wearing.

Chuckling half-heartedly at that, Luka shook her head. She stretched her arms, feeling around the crevices of the sofa for the remote control, until she finally found the object. Flicking on the television, Luka caught the end of a periodic weather report.

"_Scattered showers and cloud cover for tomorrow – remember to pack your umbrella! This is Hatsune Miku, and I'll see you later for the 6 pm report!"_

The overly bright grin of the reporter faded away as the channel logo filled up the screen, and Luka glared at it. Of all the days that rain could have happened…

"No helping it…" Luka mumbled out loud, and then she mentally slapped herself at how depressed she sounded. She was really overreacting today! Besides, constantly worrying that what Gakupo wished to tell her was necessarily a _bad thing_ couldn't be good for her psyche. It was just a foreboding hunch, and the news of a bit of precipitation had put her in a damp mood.

Luka swung herself up into a sitting position, then squeezed her eyes shut and pinched her cheeks.

"Lighten up!" She ordered herself, then took a deep breath. Switching the channel to some comedy, she curled herself against an armrest and settled.

Only moving to eat a reheated meal, Luka spent the rest of the night staring at the television until her eyes started to droop, and she finally crawled off to bed.

* * *

It was only lightly raining, but the drops were bulbous, splattering ungracefully in Luka's hair. Maybe actors looked attractive with shining jewels of water sitting prettily on their heads, but instead she had these clumps of dark wet locks sticking to her scalp. Luka knew she was going to look drowned by the time she got home. For the millionth time, she cursed herself for not checking that she actually had a working umbrella.

The clouds let through only a grey light and Luka moodily hugged her arms to her body, glaring around the mostly sparse park in search of that certain someone. Gakupo was usually punctual, but if today become the one day he was late, Luka made no promises to refrain from killing him. The stupid idiot. Making her do stupid things.

Luka was interrupted from a possibly stupid rant when the muffled, and slightly soggy, sound of footsteps approached from her right. She looked up, already pouting, because there was no doubt who this was. Blue eyes met with violet and Luka started smiling, but was immediately disheartened when Gakupo shifted his gaze to some point beside her and offered only a weak twitch of his lips in return.

A heavy weight settled in her stomach and Luka started winding her hands around each other. It was incredibly disconcerting to see Gakupo looking both serious and depressed – two emotions that rarely ever crossed his face. Yet here they were, simultaneously. Luka didn't remove her gaze from his eyes though, despite his efforts to avoid her own. She was determined to get though this; whatever _this_ was.

"So… What did you want to ask me?" Luka slowly solicited, attempting to sound casual. Suddenly the cold water in her hair felt obvious and she hoped she didn't look too ridiculous in front of him. Somehow, even though Luka could see no umbrella or any form of water protection, Gakupo's hair looked just perfect. _Goddammit._

Gakupo said nothing at first, but offered his hand to her. Luka took it, and she thought he was going to pull her towards him, but he simply held it lightly. They stood a little under an arm's length from each other. Luka wanted to move forward, closer to him, but an invisible force kept her rooted.

"Luka," Gakupo spoke, then stopped. He took a deep breath. "I suppose I should just say this simply."

_Beat._

"We should break up."

Luka stood frozen. The world suddenly made no sense and she stayed dumbfounded for a few moments while the reality was slowly digested. Her brain floundered on the last two words, but as soon as their meaning settled in…

Luka couldn't breathe. Something was crushing her lungs, her entire chest. She could feel every painful heartbeat against her ribs, and her blood was cold.

"What…?" She mumbled out, barely managing to form the correct consonants. Searching Gakupo's face, she found no answers, only his bare guilt and obvious sadness.

"It's… not you." He tried, seeming to uncharacteristically stumble over his words. "It's me and – I'm sorry, that sounded so horribly cliché, I just… It really is me and – this is hard to explain." Gakupo lowered his head, his bangs obscuring his eyes.

Luka felt frozen on the inside. It was too hard to understand. She doubted any amount of justification on Gakupo's part would relieve the pressure, there was too much. In one sudden movement, Luka wretched her hand from his lax grip.

Anger; it was hot, boiling. It made the cold melt away for just a moment.

"I don't need an explanation." She snapped, while her mind screamed something entirely different. Luka could barely hear Gakupo's voice above the questions that roared within her head.

"I should have been honest from the start – I'm sorry, Luka, I know you're upset—"

"Who said I-I'm upset, huh?" Luka rasped, her voice beginning to crack. Ignoring the gathering liquid in the corner of her eyes, she narrowed her expression into a glare. It was almost physically incapacitating. The pain, that is. In her chest. Luka didn't know what to do. She wanted to scream at Gakupo, hit and punch him and just show him how she felt; and then she felt paralysed, chilled to the core, unable to do anything more than clench fists and fight back tears.

Why was this happening? Hadn't things been completely fine? Sure, she snapped at him more than a few times, and occasionally he replied with some of his own cold words, but all was always forgiven.

Right?

…_Right?_

Gakupo was apologising again, or at least she thought he was, Luka couldn't really understand the words his lips formed.

"Just shut up. I don't want to hear it." Luka cut in scathingly. "I'm going h-home."

Without waiting another moment, Luka took all her strength and broke from the invisible hold that had rooted her to the ground. Almost painfully, she took one step, then another, away from Gakupo. He did not follow her, but she slowly increased her pace. Luka didn't notice that she had eventually started running, not until she found herself staring at her plain front door, panting breathlessly.

Fumbling her keys, and messily unlocking the door, it wasn't until she was within the confines of her house that the dam wall broke.

Had she been in a state of coherent thought, Luka may have begun to wonder what Gakupo's real reasons were. She may have noticed, as the time for MaguroLover and Dancing_Samurai's first offline meet came and went, that it may have something to do with her 'alternative' self.

Instead, only the sounds of muffled cries resonated, only stopping momentarily as Luka staggered shakily into the study, and yanked out the internet cable from her slightly dusty modem. The laptop flickered.

_Not connected – No connections are available._

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for all the emo here xD

This is important plot stuff ono

You'll find out everything in the next (and final) chapter!

It will also be in Gakupo's pov :3

'Cause I bet you're all wondering what's gotten into him. Don't worry, he's not as bad as he seems in this chapter oAo; He's just stupid~ xD


End file.
